Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I surrendered to instinct. I felt my right leg swing forward with electricity, capturing my potential attacker just as he was about to scurry into the depths of the woodwork.

Did I get him? Is he dead? I slowly dragged my foot back in to its point of origin, unwilling to risk the escape of my victim, had he somehow managed to survive the blow. Only as I saw his trail of death and severed appendages was I able to inhale an oxygenating breath of inexplicable relief.

What now? I reluctantly collected the scattered pieces of his mutilated corpse in a handful of paper towels and decided to leave a small section of sticky spider death juice behind momentarily, as a warning for any of his kin that might still be lurking in the area. It’s not safe for you tonight, b*tches.

3 minutes passed.

Momentarily forgetting the entire saga, I stepped right on top of the remains.